


If You Kissed Me I'd Be Happy Enough to Die

by emptymasks



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Arguing, Confessions, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Sexual Tension, based on ramin karimloo and hadley fraser in the 25th anniversary concert, because it's Grantaire, towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emptymasks/pseuds/emptymasks
Summary: He'd done it. He'd finally cracked and done it.Grantaire had kissed Enjolras.He couldn't even remember moving forwards. He remembered what happened once he did, though. How could he not? Enjolras' lips had been so soft against his own. Soft, but unmoving.What had he been thinking?
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 126





	If You Kissed Me I'd Be Happy Enough to Die

He'd done it. He'd finally cracked and done it.

Grantaire had kissed Enjolras.

What had he been thinking? He could blame the drink, of course he could always blame the drink for his actions, but he knew deep down the drink wasn’t to blame. Not for the desire anyway. He was a sorry, sad man, pining and in love with someone who would never see him as more than a friend.

And it was hard. It was so hard when there was those nights where no one wanted to hear him, no one wanted to sit near him and his nihilistic poetry, and yet Enjolras would look at him. He would notice him. When he'd get rowdy for a little too long and the others would drag him to his chair, Enjolras would give him that small grin. And it would give him hope. Because, perhaps that grin meant something more, perhaps Enjolras didn't even realise he was grinning and it was just slipping out without him realising.

But, Enjolras had to know, right? He had to know how Grantaire felt. He knew a couple of the others had noticed how deep his affections went and he silently thanked them for only teasing him about how much he liked Enjolras when Enjolras wasn't around. No one wanted everyone to fall out, and certainly not kicked out of the group.

Grantaire had long ago resigned himself to merely watch and never touch, for Enjolras was untouchable for him, untouchable to all but the sun ray's and the dawn's determination. His flushed cheeks and his raven hair and his wild eyes. He was everything Grantaire was not. What could Enjolras possibly want with him?

It had been just the two of them in the room. The others had already left and Grantaire often hung around until Enjolras resigned himself to sleep, sometimes just to make sure he actually got some. Some nights it was nigh impossible to tear Enjolras away from his maps and plans.

Tonight the papers were scattered haphazardly around the desk as Enjolras moved around the room, talking animatedly with his hands. He'd had an idea, an epiphany, and he was talking so fast Grantaire could barely keep up with him. He always felt as though he was barely keeping up with him. But the idea was good, they always were.

They were lucky to have Enjolras. Too often those with wild determination are blinded by their optimism and dreams, but not Enjolras. He was smart and cunning and knew when to be calm. And he cared about them all.

He'd spun around the room in almost a dance and when Grantaire had stood, he'd grabbed him, clasped his hands against Grantaire's upper arms. And he had smiled a smile so full of glee and joy and he was so close and Grantaire hadn't had any more to drink than normal but he felt light headed and heady and he could feel Enjolras' hands burning through his shirt and he smell him, was close enough to taste him.

He couldn't even remember moving forwards. He remembered what happened once he did, though. How could he not? Enjolras' lips had been so soft against his own. Soft, but unmoving.

Grantaire had snapped back to himself quickly, nervously laughing as if perhaps it could be played of as a show of brotherly love. He took a glance at Enjolras' face, but his expression seemed frozen. He's stumbled out a goodbye and out of the door, returning to his run down and barren apartment.

God, he wanted to drink until he passed out. Drink until he couldn't hold onto the realisation that he'd just ruined the best friendship, the best relationship of any kind, that he had. It would be so easy and the bottles were so close and tantalising.

But what would he do in the morning? He couldn't show up half way through the day, his head roaring like a beast, for Enjolras to pause and stare at him. Would he go on and act like nothing had happened. Would he let him stay? But ignoring him wouldn't be acting like nothing had happened. The others would notice. So what then? He'd be asked to leave. That seemed better, if he was being honest. Not being able to see him again rather than live by his side constantly ignored, loved even less than he was, if he had ever been loved at all.

He hugged the bottle to his chest and wept. His head fell to the side against the splintering walls. He'd go out with some dignity, at least, even though he didn't deserve it. Enjolras was always the first to arrive, so he'd arrive there before him and wait and if Enjolras didn't force him out he'd tell him he was leaving. He couldn't do this anymore, not when he'd pushed them over that fine line.

Sleep didn't come to him, and why should it? He stared at the clock across the room, though he couldn't read it at all in the darkness, and waited. The bottle stayed against his chest, but he kept his grip on it tight. The least he could do is save Enjolras the job of having to beat down a man who could already barely stand.

As soon as the run speared through the thin curtains, he unfurled himself, wincing as his body complained about being in that same position all night. He made a point of putting the bottle down on the floor and almost having a staring contest with it. He closed his eyes. He wasn't strong enough for this, but it had to be done.

The cafe was empty as he'd been sure it would be. He realised he'd never been in it while it was empty before, well not when the sun was up and shining through the gapes in the walls and through the window. The room was warmed as the light shone through the red flag Joly had hung up above the window, blocking out the rest of the world.

His hands were shaking. His legs were bouncing. God, why did he leave the bottle at home? There was alcohol hidden here of course, but no, no. No, he couldn't. He could just sit here and if need be grab one of the books that cluttered the room, everyone was always getting their textbooks and notebooks that is was normal for there to be piles of them around the cafe now.

There was a law book inches from where his fingers rested against the table. It was probably Courfeyrac's, he tended to leave things there the most. He wasn't sure how long he'd already been sitting here, and who knows how early Enjolras would show up. Perhaps he'd show up later to try and avoid dealing with him.

Grantaire reached forwards across the table.

"You're never usually the first one here," Grantaire jumped, standing up so he didn't fall out of his chair onto the floor. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't heard Enjolras opening the door.

So this was the end then.

"Yes, well, I thought... If you're going to kick me out I'd rather save myself the embarrassment of it not being in front of everyone else. And then you don't have to explain anything to them either."

"Kick you out?" Enjolras' brows furrowed slightly.

"However you want to call it. I know what I did... I crossed a line and I..."

Enjolras looked away from him for a moment. "Had you been..." It wasn't like him to pause mid-sentence. "Drinking too much yesterday?"

There it was, an out. Enjolras was giving him an out! He could just say yes and they'd laugh about it and everything could go back to how it was. But he looked at Enjolras’ eyes, eyes full of some emotions he'd never seen on his face before. Was he apprehensive? Did he fear Grantaire saying no? Dare he hope... that he would be disappointed if he said yes?

What a stupid, slim, impossible chance. No. No, that could never be it at all.

But he looked in Enjolras' eyes again even though it hurt and he knew what he'd always known if this came out: He couldn't lie to him.

"No." His voice echoed back at him in his ears. Enjolras just stared at him. "Does that surprise you? Does it truly? Some part of you must have... Enjolras, you _must_ know. You are not blind. You notice things all the time no one else sees, and yet have you not seen me?"

Grantaire always dreaded opening his mouth. Once he started he often seemed unable to stop. And this, this had been bottled up for so long he couldn't stop himself and he could feel his throat closing up around his words and the corners of his vision turning wet.

"Do you know how I feel? Perhaps you were trying to be kind, perhaps you'd hope it would pass. But it can't... I can't... I would follow you forever, wherever. I have accepted my death and I wish for it to happen by your side. And I know what a folly it all is, I know that... For even if you wanted to love, even if you could love another man, what would you see in me? You haven't ever had a use for a drunken fool, and allowed me to stay anyway. So, I ask you now, if you would allow me to leave."

He took steps backwards until the table bumped against him and he slumped onto it. He couldn't raise his head nor his eyes.

How pathetic was he? Even now he was still asking for Enjolras' permission for things.

It was staying quite for too long, but he supposed that was better than Enjolras just walking out.

"You're..." Enjolras eventually spoke. "You're in love with me?"

And he asked it with no hint of disgust in his voice and it made Grantaire want to cry harder still.

All he could do was nod.

Black shoes came entered his eyes.

"Grantaire," Enjolras' voice was so soft, a siren's call that Grantaire couldn't refuse and though he feared it, he meet his eyes. "You're in love with me?"

Enjolras emphasised the words as though he needed to be sure, needed to double-check.

"Yes. Are you happy that you have made me say it. I'm in love with you. I love you. I have for so long and I think I will until I die. If I could ask for you not to hate me... But I do not deserve that. I don't... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," The words spilt out of Grantaire's mouth as a river would burst through a dam.

His voice gave out to a whisper as he repeated his apology over and over again.

"Grantaire, stop. Stop it, hey," Enjolras' hands came up to his shoulders, brushed up and over his neck. His thumbs dug under Grantaire's chin, forcing him to look at him again. "I should apologise to you, I think, not the other way around. I had... suspected that you might... I couldn't be sure until last night and I was convinced I wouldn't see you at all today. We all have our worth, my friend, and I would not put any of us above each other, and I would be sad to see you go."

His thumbs softened against Grantaire's skin. "You ask for my permission to leave?" Grantaire nodded, ashamed. "I refuse to give it."

Enjolras' eyes were twinkling and there was a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and Grantaire didn't understand. He didn't understand.

"What worth do I see in a 'drunken fool' as you call yourself? I don't think I've ever met someone more loyal than you. You doubt some of the beliefs shared here and yet you stay... You've stayed for me, yes? And when you come out with your ramblings, it makes me want to fight harder, even if just to prove you wrong. I think it makes the others feel that way too. I think there is something wicked in me that likes to see you get them riled up."

"I noticed you... don't seem as annoyed as anyone else does. You're always... I keep looking up and finding that you're watching me."

"Oh, do you?" There was Enjolras starting to grin again like he was waiting for Grantaire to catch up with him.

"Would you stop?!" Grantaire pushed himself off the table and into Enjolras. "My heart and my feelings are not a game. Stop being cruel and just tell me whatever it is I should know. You couldn't understand what it is like to love you. To love something so beautiful and loved by many and unattainable."

"Grantaire," Enjolras seemed exasperated and he didn't get to do that. He didn't get to be tired of Grantaire's feelings when he bearing his soul open to him.

"Am I anything to you at all?" Grantaire puffed his chest up, his nose now brushing against Enjolras'.

"How can you ask me that?" Enjolras' voice murmured between them. He reached up and put his hand against Grantaire's cheek, the way Grantaire had often done to him when they said goodbye for the night when he let his emotions take control a little too much. "You think you know so much about how I feel, about how I can love..."

"I wonder if you even feel love at all."

Enjolras' eyes flashed something hot and sharp. A dangerous sharpness that had Grantaire wanting to clutch back at the table behind him less Enjolras would throw him over it.

And Enjolras did move, pouncing forward and pinning him, trapping him, between the hard edge of the table and his own warm body. Grantaire didn't have time to take in the feeling before there were two hands on his face, one on either cheek, and a soft, burning mouth pressing against his own.

Alright, so he had drank that bottle last night until he passed out and this was all a dream. There you go, now it all made sense.

But... But the table pinched at the backs of his thighs, and Enjolras was pushing his legs open and his fingers were gripping tighter and tighter on his face and his mouth was hot and wet and parting and moving against his own and oh dear lord.

God, if this was his reward for not getting drunk again then he would never drink again. He wouldn't need to when he was so easily getting drunk of this instead.

They had to part for air eventually, and Enjolras rested his forehead against Grantaire's.

"Not only," Enjolras panted into his mouth. "Do I not give you permission to leave. I absolutely forbid it."

"I don't understand," Grantaire tried to plead at Enjolras with his eyes. It had been hard enough to think through the desperation and the guilt, and even harder now he was trying not to lose himself in the feeling of having Enjolras so close... And Enjolras had been the one to cause the closeness.

"Yes, you do. If everything you said was true, and I do not doubt you, then yes you do."

Grantaire's heart threatened to tear out of his chest at the implication that Enjolras could return any of his feelings. That his kiss hadn't been purely out of instinct or anger or frustration of pent of urges.

"You're not allowed to leave," Enjolras leaned back and let Grantaire try to right himself.

"I..." He looked up at Enjolras. His hair was pushed out of place, the flush on his cheeks spread down his neck and his eyes were burning differently. It was a subtle difference, but a difference all the same. "Alright."

With that one small world Enjolras' face lit up, that grin breaking out. "Good. So, you'll still stay behind tonight?"

Grantaire tried to blink the room into focus. "Like usual?"

"Well," Enjolras' grinned turned. "Perhaps not completely like usual."

"What-" Grantaire didn't have time to pry further into what that meant before the front door opened and their friends started to spill into the hallway.

Enjolras moved to go and greet them as he always did, but not before pausing next to Grantaire and sliding his hand around his wrist.

"I think that was also proof that you don't need the bottle with you, and besides," Enjolras' voice brushed against his ear as he whispered. "I'd rather not be able to taste it on you in the future."

The grin was clear in his voice and he clapped Grantaire on the shoulder before bolstering out into the hall, enthusiastically saying good morning.

What had Grantaire finally gotten himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so happy to have finally written something for these two, but not at all the versions of them i expected to write about
> 
> this is based on ramin karimloo's enjorlas and hadley fraser's grantaire from the 25th anniversary concert, and also ramin as enjorlas in the 2004 west end production - this clip in particular where instead of how most enjorlas are annoyed at grantaire during red and black, ramin's grins at him. i saw someone on tumblr say aaron tveit's enjorlas is a gryffindor and ramin's is a slytherin and that feels very accurate.
> 
> also i spent too much time compiling all my favourite enjorlas/grantaire moments from various productions of the musical, because a friend hadn't seen any clips from the west end versions and didn't know they hugged in it, so if anyone wants to watch that [here's the link](https://emptymasks.tumblr.com/post/623664829133160448/i-spent-too-much-time-on-this-please-watch-it-so-i) (please look at it i totally shouldn't have spent an entire day on it)
> 
> was working on something else and started thinking of them and had to pause what i was doing to write this oops


End file.
